Not really my area
by Tcheu
Summary: Sherlock defines himself as asexual, but John thinks otherwise and finally decides to tell the consulting detective. -This is my first attempt to write in english, as this is not my native language. Please comment! Johnlock, John POV. Rating T just in case for further chapters-
1. Chapter 1

This is my very first attempt at writing a fanfic in english. As a start, I'll go with a single chapter. I'll do more if people like this one. So, as I'm French, there may be mistakes, so please feel free to tell me if you find some, I do want to improve.

And if you'd like me to write something in particular, ask me, I affectionate several fandoms :)

Oh, and I don't own anything, Sherlock belongs to the BBC, etc. etc.

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This is Johnlock, John POV maybe some fluff later on, I'm not sure yet. Enjoy!

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_'Not really my area'_.

Even if Sherlock had justified that by considereing himself 'married to his work', john couldn't help but think that it meant more. Especially because Sherlock _had_ justified himself, which was something very unusual for the consulting detective. He could have said nothing at all. But no, this time, he did _try_ to convince John that he wasn't gay. Thinking about it, he did not _really _say he wasn't. And that was enough for John to believe he _was._

'John ! ' The well-known voice shouted.

The ex-army doctor went out of his thoughts and lookend at the man standing in front of him.

'John, you not answering when I talk and you're not here is annoying enough, so don't do it when you're actually here. '

'Do you realize how stupid that statement sounds, Sherlock ?'

'Just listen to me'

For once, John felt a little bit guilty . They were in the middle of a case – a small one, but still – and he sould have been focused, not lost in his thoughts. Besides, he loved listening over and over to this beautiful low-ton voice. It was like a nice music to-

'JOHN ! You're doing it again !'

Damn.

'Yeah, okay, sorry Sherlock'.

'I can see that you're not focused. You usually drink my words.' The detective said. He slightly frowned and added 'what's different, John ?'

'Well...'

John didn't know what to say. He would sound silly. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. As Sherlock liked to remind him, he was stupid and ordinary. Sometimes he hated that man. But...

'John, for God's sake, what's the matter with you ?! Stop thinking and TALK ! '

John escaped from his own mind for the third time.

'okay, huh...'

'John !' Sherlock insisted.

'You're gay.'

It had slipped from his lips before he could think of anything else to say. Sherlock blinked twice and frowned a bit more, but remained silent. John could feel his own heartbeat speed up a little, trying to control the blushing on his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

'And I think you like me' he added.

Now he wanted to melt and disappear in his armachair. But he stayed still, eyes fixed on the dark-haired man still standing in front of him.

'Of course I like you, John. That's obvious.' he said in his stone-cold voice. 'But I don't see how your two sentences have anything to do with each other. I like Mrs Hudson and Lestrade and Molly, too'.

John smirked. 'Not like that, Sherlock. That's not what I meant.'

For the fraction of a heartbeat, Sherlock seemed to flicker, very slightly. His eyes lost their usual fix and strong gaze. For just a moment. Then the unemotional yet slightly annoyed Sherlok spoke again.

'Nonsense, John. Could we please focus on something _actually_ important like, I don't know, the _case_, maybe ?'

'Okay, whatever' John replied on a resigned tone. 'But we _will_ eventually have this discussion, Sherlock' he added in a sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Firstly, I want to thank you all for adding this story to your favourites, it was a very big surprise for me to see so many view in such a short time. And thanks A LOT for those of you who've sent me reviews, that's what keeps me motivated. Enjoy this new chapter, and again, feel free to review, criticism is constructive.

I dedicate this second chapter to _BarbaraK1_, _Florence The Impaler_, _jennabrooke7_, _ma5dz_, _xSommerRegen_ and _Sam_. Thank you guys, for being my first followers \o/

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By the end of the week, the case was solved. Sherlock had been thanked by another pair of cufflinks, John had had to poke him in the ribs to remind him to smile for the photograph, and they were soon back at 221b, John attempting to update his blog while Sherlock was pacing like a lion in a cage.

'I _need_ a new case, John' Sherlock said, joining his hands in front of his mouth, still pacing around the living-room.

'Déjà-vu. Why can't you just rest, like all normal people ?'

'I'm not _normal_, John' the black-haired man answered with disdain.

'I know that. But even if you don't like it, you're still human. And humans _do_ need to rest.'

Sherlock growled and let himself crash on the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He took a long inspiration to try and relax. That was not very effective.

'I need to move, John. I need to do something. I need something to _feed_ my mind. '

'How about that little chat we had ? You know, the one about you being gay...' john teased him.

'Not again, John.'

'Yes, again, Sherlock. You never talk about your feelings. And don't tell me you don't have feelings, I know that's not true. You actually said that you liked some people, remember ?'

'I was being nice -'

'No you weren't.' John cut him off. 'What you do is either being sarcastic or telling the truth, and that was definitely not sarcasm'.

'Yes it was.' Sherlock insisted.

'You're being childish, now.' John sighed, rubbing his forehead with the tip of his fingers. 'You know, it would be easier if you agreed to cooperate. And when we're done with it, I'll leave you at peace'.

The pale man seemed to be actually considering it. He shifted his weight quickly, sitting crossed-leg on the sofa, hands still joined before his mouth. He had the 'serious face' on, brows furrowed, eyes piercing towards John. 'Okay, speak.' he simply said.

'Well, huh...' he hesitated. This had caught him by surprise. He turned on his chair to face Sherlock.

'Well, as I said, I believe you are gay, despite what you said – or rather didn't say – when we met, and I also believe that you... _fancy_ me.'

'So ?'

'So, I'd like you to talk about it. To admit it.'

'Why ?'

'Because...' John stopped. Oh, Sherlock was good. He was making the ex-army doctor speak instead of speaking himself. John sighed, tilting his head.

'You're clever Sherlock, but stop doing that. Just answer me, now. With real proper answers, not questions. '

'You didn't ask anything, John.'

He jumped out of his chair. 'For god's sake, _Sherlock_ ! '

'Yes, _John _?' he grinned. He was clearly taunting him, now. But he was right. John didn't ask anything, really. He took a long breath and sat next to Sherlock on the sofa. '_Do_ you-' His eyes went slowly from the floor to Sherlock's face '-fancy me?'. He gulped nervously, awaiting the answer. The black-haired man hadn't moved, eyes still watching the very spot John had just left.

'Yes' the clinical voice said.

Well that was an improvement. A big improvement. A slightly _frightening_ improvement, actually. Sherlock turned his whole body, legs still crossed, and crossed his arms as well, now facing the doctor.

'Can _I_ ask you something, now ?'

'You usually don't ask for permission' John said with a small nervous laugh 'but yeah, go on'.

'Do _you_ fancy me, John?'

Ah, _that_ question, of course. He should have seen it coming.


	3. Chapter 3

Both of them were completely still. John could almost feel Sherlock's eyes drilling a hole in his own, and the more he tried to remain calm, the more he could feel his hands shaking. His chest could compete with Morias's drums in the deep, as he was sure anyone to a mile radius could hear his heart race as if it were trying to escape.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, narrowing his eyes. _'let's play it his way'_, he thought.

'Can't you deduce that ?' he asked. 'You always deduce everything. You've deduced me since I passed that bloody door at Barts.'

'Maybe, John. But as you so _brilliantly_ pointed out, one does not answer to a question with another question'.

'Fair enough. May I just ask why, though. Why do you care ? You never care about people's feelings'

'I'm waiting, John '

'God, Sherlock, of course I _do_ fancy you. As matter of fact, I...'

Oh god, why was it so hard to say ? John felt miserable. He felt like he was some hormone-full teenager. His face was most certainly completely pink, right now. This was stupid. He had always felt that it was easy with girls, whoever they were. Why was it so difficult this time ? Well, apart from the fact that the consulting dective was nothing like a teenage girl. Although he actually acted like one, sometimes. John smiled at this idea.

'You're gone again, John.' the clinical voice stated.

'Oh, yeah, sorry.'

Okay, be courageous. Breathe. Count 'til three. And go.

'I love you' he said timidly, his voice breaking on the last word.

'See ? That wasn't so hard, after all' he smiled. An engaging smile. Ohmygod, Sherlock was smiling, _for real_. Towards him. This triggered a complete chaos in John's brain. He could hear his inner voices shouting all sorts of things, from girlish squeals to injuctions to kiss the black-haired man.

He went for the last option. He climbed on his knees on the sofa, reaching out to finally gently rest his hands on Sherlock's cheeks. They where hotter than expected. Good start. He leant towards his high-functioning sociopath, and closed his eyes as he shyly lay a soft kiss on his lips.

He pulled back slowly, opening his eyes. To his surprise, Sherlock's were now closed. His arms weren't crossed anymore, he had left his hands slip on his lap, palms facing up, and was breathing heavily through his half-opened mouth.

'Are you allright, Sherlock?' John asked in a soft voice.

'Y-Yes'. His voice was husky. Eyes still closed, he bit his lip before adding 'More.'

Butterflies. Butterflies all over John's stomach. A wide smile covered his face, his eyes capturing every inch of Sherlock's features. He looked lost, demanding, and _oh god_ so handsome. And those ebony curls... John buried his right hand in them, letting his other hand softly slip on his neck. He kissed him once again, deeper, waves of pleasure destroying his brain cells inch by inch. And suddenly, Sherlok's fists were clenched on the bottom of his jumper, just above his belt buckle. John moaned, fighting the impulse to rip both their clothes off, gathering enough courage to pull back. Their foreheads were touching, and he looked right into his high-functionning sociapth's cristal-clear eyes. 'I don't want to go too fast' he whispered.

Sherlock unfolded his legs and pulled him closer. His cheeks were burning, eyes filled with lust. He grinned. 'I know that's a lie, John. I can see you want _more_'.

'Well, I - '

Sherlock shushed him with a passionate kiss, dragging the doctor on top of him.

'And you don't need my permission' he added in a moan, wrapping his legs around John's waist.

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So, this is the end. I don't write lemon, I leave it to your imagination. I thought this was a good place to end my story. Not too much, not another plot twist where everyone gets involved and Sherlock backpedals and John is sad and then puts himself in danger and Sherlock saves him and everything goes back to normal, and blahblahblah. None of that.  
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and pleaaaase review - I hate when a writer asks that, but it really is encouraging, especially on a first story -  
See you soon :)


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